


we'll throw open our hearts

by lockedinmybody



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Caring, Character Study, Fluff, Hands, Holding Hands, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tactile, Touch-Starved, Touching, and all the ways ben likes them, and how they care for each other by being affectionate, it sounds a bit seccsy and it is but its mostly just soft, its about the YearningTM, kind of an ode to callums massive hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 17:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21275024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedinmybody/pseuds/lockedinmybody
Summary: there's a million ways to take care of someone, and not all of them have to be solely through words. ben craves callum's touch, but also gets intimidated by the thought of not being able to give him enough in return.or, all the ways callum's hands catch ben, hold him, and always reach out.





	we'll throw open our hearts

It occurs to Ben, as he places his palm flat onto Callum's, that his boyfriend's hands are about a whole knuckle bigger than his own.  
Callum's eyes are following the movement on the telly, Ben tucked into his side with Callum's arm around the back of the sofa, hand dangling towards Ben.  
He tugs it down gently, holding it with his own and running his fingers over the lines in Callum's palm.  
He tilts his finger up, blunt nail applying more pressure and Callum startles.  
"That feels funny." Ben tilts his head up with a smile, and Callum leans down to peck his lips before turning his attention to the screen again.  
Ben lightens his touch again, featherlike strokes over his palm, the veins on the back of his hand. His own fingers slide through the gaps between Callum's, pressing his mouth to the back of Callum's hand before holding them both against his chest.

Callum is quite a tactile person, as it turns out. And when it's just the two of them, they're usually connected in one way or another.  
It took a little while for him to lose that bit of nervousness, that restraint coming from the idea that he was somehow doing something he wasn't supposed to do, and he was going to get told off for it.  
But his confidence grew as time went on, finding more and more comfort in Ben.  
It's still strange sometimes, when he's sipping his first coffee of the day in the kitchen and Ben bends around him to grab something, tilting his head up for a kiss once he's back up again.  
He doesn't have to hold back for anything, and he knows Ben wouldn't want him to.

And it's nice to be there for someone. Ben comes back from work exhausted, letting himself fall onto the sofa and immediately puts his head on Callum's shoulder.  
He makes a disgruntled noise, slowly raising his head again and moving it from side to side.  
"Y'alright?" Callum says, sitting up and placing a hand on Ben's back.  
"Yeah, I think I slept funny and then spent the entire day staring down at paperwork," Ben mutters, rubbing a hand over the side of his neck.  
Callum places his hand on the back of Ben's neck, softly rubbing it before moving slightly to the right and down, pushing his thumb gently into the muscle.  
Ben's eyes flutter shut on a sigh. "Good?" Callum says lowly, and Ben hums.

He repeats the motion on the same spot but at the left, circling his thumb over the muscle.  
Ben's body sags a little, tired eyes opening for a moment but falling shut again when Callum slides his hand up, fingertips pushing slow circles into the side of his neck.  
"Mm, might fall asleep on ya," Ben mumbles, eyes still closed.  
Callum exhales a small laugh and scoots closer, pressing a kiss to Ben's forehead, who opens his eyes slightly with a smile. "That's alright."

Loads of people seem to think Ben isn't the type for PDA, and in a sense he isn't. It feels unnecessary in a way, like there's no need to be showing to the whole world what you feel inside.  
Keeping his cards close to his chest has been a way to stay safe for Ben, but low effort means little profit. Not everyone is happy hiding away in dark corners, honest feelings only arising when there's no one looking on.  
Nothing permanent comes from something built on fear and entrapment. 

And then it shifts. Showing people who you are is a form of confrontation, and the anger in Ben's veins sizzles when he doesn't back down, instead becomes bolder, like every fiber of his being demanding to be noted of its existence as he slings an arm around a stranger's shoulders and moves his mouth against theirs.  
But Callum doesn't have the rage, not like Ben. And Ben envies it, how a world so often cruel can't harden Callum.  
He doesn't want his temper to be the source, and instead finds himself grinning as Callum leads him out the Vic by his hand, and doesn't let go once they stand in the street, instead threading their fingers together.  
Their arms swing back and forth for a bit as they catch each other's eyes every now and then, lightly blushing and laughing like a pair of teenagers.  
It feels great. 

He loves the feeling of Callum's hand in his own. He's got someone on his side, always. Sometimes Callum will bring their joined hands up to his mouth and kiss the back of Ben's, something brief and casual but it feels funny in Ben's belly nonetheless.  
Sometimes they sit in the Vic with Jay and Lola and Ben gives Callum a soft smile, the sight of him a reason to be _happy_, and he'll lay his hand on top of Callum's, resting it there until his fingers start to trace the outline.  
Jay pretends not to notice and Lola pesters him about it as soon as they get home, but Ben doesn't mind or care.  
He remembers the first time he'd held Callum's hand in public, semi out of view behind a stall, lips to Callum's cheek as they lingered, a press of hand to hand grounding Callum, telling him _this is real_.

And it was real, even back then. Something was happening, the air shifted, Ben could _feel_ it, thrumming underneath his skin. Question was whether they would end up in the same place at the same time.  
The gentle rub of Ben's thumb over the skin of Callum's hand a contrast to the harsh truths he'd told him moments earlier. The heartbreak in his face was difficult to bear, especially since it's one Ben has had of his own.  
But then he reaches out, always reaching out. The corners of Ben's mouth lift, he can't help it as he takes in the awestruck expression on Callum's face.  
The casual touches balance out the intense now, and it always means something.

One of Ben's favourite things is when Callum's hands explore, tentatively but determined.  
He hates the idea of Callum feeling rushed, like he's behind, when in reality, they have all the time in the world, and Ben's eyes follow him with awe as Callum gets quieter and focused.  
Ben sits on the kitchen worktop when Callum gets in close, crowds him as his lips meet Ben's. He lets his legs fall open as Callum steps in between them, hands on Ben's knees first, and then gliding up, resting on his thighs, thumbs brushing on the inside.  
It sends a spike of heat to the pit of Ben's stomach, his ankles crossing behind Callum's back as he pulls him in further, arms resting on Callum's shoulders.  
The slow drag of Callum's tongue against his own is dizzying, his forehead resting against Callum's when he has to breathe.  
Callum brushes a thumb to Ben's bottom lip, wet and shiny, and Ben opens his mouth when Callum presses, doesn't miss the hushed intake of breath when the warm wetness of his tongue meets the pad of Callum's finger.

It's the way Callum's fingers slowly undo his zipper when Ben's laid out underneath him, the warmth of his fingertips against his belly as they push Ben's shirt up and off.  
Callum's firm grip on his thighs as he presses kisses to his ribcage, the side of his stomach. The way Callum grabs at his arse to keep him close, the hand to the side of Ben's face as Ben softly bites down on his shoulder.  
His hand covering his own face, jaw slack and hips bucking up as Ben grins at him from between his legs around a mouthful.  
His arm extending out, inviting, asking, _come closer_, as Ben falls onto his chest and Callum holds him with one arm and tugs the duvet over them both with the other.  
Eventually his hand finds itself in Ben's hair, running the strands through his fingers, Ben half-heartedly complaining after a minute that he's going to fall asleep if Callum keeps doing that.  
Callum makes a quip about who's worn him out so much and Ben pinches his side, Callum laughing as he kisses the top of Ben's head.

There's not always a purpose to it. When Callum's thumbs are wedged under Ben's jawbones, running back and forth, and he lets Callum's touch cloud his mind as he thinks about how he could spend the rest of his life right here, like this.  
The stumble accompanied by hurrying fingers, like they couldn't possibly get close enough fast enough, doesn't always come.  
It doesn't explode, millions of pieces floating through the air.  
Sometimes it burns, low and steady, flickering as heat slowly uncurls itself in the pit of Ben's stomach.  
And he's perfectly content basking in the warmth, letting himself relax enough that Callum sees the muscles in his face drop, the low droop of his eyelids, the corners of his mouth tucking up a wealth that Ben didn't often afford himself before. 

Callum huffs a laugh, breath hitting Ben's face as he comes closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek, forehead, eyelids.  
His hand moves to Ben's neck, fingers curled around the back, his thumb pressed to the front just above his collarbone.  
Callum's eyes move up to his for a moment before going back down, curiosity in his face as he presses his thumb down a bit more, the skin jumping under his touch.  
Ben's gaze is dark and heavy when he meets his eyes, and he knows Callum is making a mental note. 

It always reminds him that Callum is _there_, pulls him back to here and now. Even when he struggles to verbalize what's going on in his head, Callum sees the worried creases in his forehead, notices him drifting and gently squeezes his knee under the table in the Vic.  
Ben turns his head, Callum smiling at him. _I'm here_.  
He comes back from the Mitchell house and Callum knows by the look on his face that he's talked to his dad, he doesn't let Ben brush him off, instead catching his wrist as he tries to hurry off.  
Callum holds on, just for a moment, squeezing his hand. "You'll come over tonight, yeah?" And something in Ben's face surrenders, a small nod enough for Callum to know that he'll come back to him.  
And they do, always come back to each other.  
Ben's fingers fix the tie around Callum's neck, gliding down before tugging, Callum grinning against his mouth.  
Callum's hands on Ben's shoulders as he stands behind him, Ben seated at the desk of the car lot, tilting his head up for a peck.  
Ben's hand sliding into the back pocket of Callum's jeans when he's standing in the kitchen on his day off, Callum only batting him away with flushed cheeks when Ben squeezes.

And it's the little things too. Their days get filled to the brim with work, Lexi, friends, and they both get home late, leading to them eating take-out more often than they probably should.  
"I feel like I can feel my arteries getting clogged," Ben sighs, lips shiny with grease as he pushes his plate away. Callum huffs a laugh and slides further down on the sofa, resting his head against Ben's arm.  
When Ben gets to Callum's place the next day after work, his boyfriend is already home, black blazer and tie abandoned and the top two buttons of his white dress shirt undone, chopping vegetables.  
Ben takes a moment to drink in the view, the hair falling over Callum's forehead, the long slope of his neck leading down to his chest. The way his hand grips the knife firmly, the motion of his arm and wrist moving down and back up a perfectly fluent rhythm.  
"Hi," he breathes as Callum turns to look at him with an amused smile, and Ben's close within seconds.  
"Hello," Callum whispers against his lips, eyes falling closed as Ben kisses him.  
"Go have a shower, I'll deal with this," Callum says, bumping the tip of his nose against Ben's. 

When he emerges from the bathroom again, loose-limbed and warm, he takes a seat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, watching as Callum puts a beer in front of him and continues to potter around.  
"How was your day then," Ben asks, bottle at his lips.  
And it's nice, this. Callum telling him about his day at work, asking Ben about _his_ day, hearing him chuckle as Ben tells him about something Lexi said to him that morning as he dropped her off at school.  
It feels utopian, a fantasy he was never going to actually get to live. But his boyfriend is cooking him dinner, and he's proper good at it too.  
The simplicity of enjoying each other's company fulfills something deep within Ben, something he'd almost managed to convince himself he didn't need or want.  
But he does, and he deserves it too.

But Ben sometimes needs reminding of that. There was practically a queue of people lining up to tell him he and Callum were doomed before they'd even started anything, and it wasn't like Ben felt totally secure with himself either.  
Had he been a boyfriend before? Yeah. But it ended with a hollow place in his chest and an ever-present underlying doubt that he's _not enough_.  
_I should have done more, spent more time with him. Cared for him more, shown him how much he meant to me when I had the chance._  
If you tell yourself you're not really capable of genuine feelings and truly caring for someone, then you never have to try, and therefore you can never fail.  
But the depth of what he was starting to feel for Callum was a hard fall, sudden and sharp, exciting and fucking terrifying. And Ben was in no way prepared, still feels like he isn't sometimes.

Because Callum is _good_, and everyone knows it. Everyone knows Callum could do a lot better than Ben Mitchell. And sometimes that thought bounces around in Ben's head so much that he feels like he needs to escape.  
Luckily, Callum doesn't let him get very far.  
"I need you to stop worrying about what you _think_ I want," Callum says, voice low but steady as he brushes a few strands of hair back from Ben's forehead, "and hear me when I say, I just want you."  
Ben almost feels too embarrassed to look him in the eye but Callum tilts his head up and kisses him, both hands on either side of Ben's face.  
He tries to hold on to Callum's words instead of immediately rejecting them. He runs a hot bath on a Friday night, puts that scented bubbly stuff in he always smells on Callum.  
Callum groans when Ben tells him. "Oh, you're the best." Ben grins against his mouth. 

Then Jay gets stressed out and clearly has too much going on so Callum takes over some of the paperwork and spends a full evening at home working on it, because that's the kind of person he is.  
Ben quietly opens the bedroom door, Callum sitting up in bed on top of the duvet, papers scattered all over the place. He sets the mug of tea down on the nightstand, and Callum gives him a grateful smile.  
"Thank you," Callum says, genuine and warm, and Ben blows him a kiss. 

The hands that care for him, always checking in to see if he's alright. The ones he begs to have all over him, to make love to him.  
They hold him, and Ben lets them. They run through Callum's hair, exasperatedly tugging on the strands when Ben shuts down, because pushing Callum away feels safer and easier than pulling him in.  
They point at Ben, veins in Callum's neck standing out when he holds Ben accountable, they run over his face when Callum doesn't know how to do this anymore.  
But they keep looking, searching. And they reach out, always coming back. 

Pulling Ben in with a hand on the back of his head as he hugs him close, a few apologies and clarifications between them later. Fingertips ghosting over the skin of Ben's arm, the hairs standing up as he traces circles and lines.  
He holds Ben's head, hands on either side, and sees love reflected in Ben's eyes, all soft around the edges. The kind of love that was meant for _him_, the one he didn't think he'd ever have.  
And Ben holds Callum's hand in his own, thumb brushing over the ring finger on his left hand.  
He presses his lips to it, briefly, vows to always keep reaching out, and promises to replace the kiss with something shiny soon.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading pals!! please let me know what you thought. i love these two so much and this is one of the aspects of their dynamic that i find really interesting.  
and also, a massive massive thank you to soph who is an incredible writer here on [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingletragedy/pseuds/dingletragedy) as well as on [tumblr](https://dingletragedy.tumblr.com) for helping me out, she's the best basically. <3  
you can also find me on [tumblr](https://softlofty.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
